


Rise of Skywalker: Post Credits Bonus Scene, Extended, X-Rated Edition

by Tuli_Azzameen



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comfort Food, Corny as fuck, F/M, Fix-It, Humor, One-Shot, Reylo - Freeform, Spoilers, another confused mixture of humor and feels, to hell with the fourth wall, written in haste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuli_Azzameen/pseuds/Tuli_Azzameen
Summary: Of course he can come back from the dead, and with perfectly tousled hair too.Hastily written immediate response to TRoS. Confused jumble of humor, feels and smut.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 29
Kudos: 68





	Rise of Skywalker: Post Credits Bonus Scene, Extended, X-Rated Edition

He saw nothing but black, at first. Just a vast, empty expanse. That was when Ben Solo realized he was dead.

“FUUUUCCCKK!” he howled into the darkness. “FUCKFFUUUCKFUCK!” So close. So fucking close. He had it. He had her. Had a moment of completely untainted happiness. 

And then, he was dead. Why was he  _ dead _ ? He could heal without dying. True, she was dead instead of hurt, but only briefly. Medical technology could restart a recently-stopped heart. Why couldn’t he, with out keeling over himself? 

It only took him a moment of consideration before he concluded that he had been so badly hurt that he’d been using the Force just to hold himself together. But the moment he put his energy into her…

But she was alive. Ben felt the tense rage fall away with a long, exhaled sigh. If he had to go out, this wasn’t -

Just as he was coming to this most comforting of thoughts, he saw an anomaly in the darkness. A man walking toward him, across an ethereal path. A familiar man.

“Funny thing about happiness, is that you can never have enough of it,” said Luke Skywalker.

“You!” Ben growled.

“Me,” Luke confirmed. 

Ben felt his teeth grind together. “Figures,” he said, all bitter resignation. “I deserve this, don’t I? To spend all of eternity with someone I hate, and who hates me.” Suddenly, that anguish and overwhelming disappointment washed over him again. “With  _ you _ , when it  _ should  _ have been - “

“About that,” Luke said with a smug smile that just begged to be punched into his damn face. “I think I may be able to help you.”

The hot, roiling resentment came to an abrupt, frozen halt. “What?”

“There is a path back, for you.”

Even as his eyes narrowed skeptically, he felt his lips twitching toward a smile. Dared he hope… “How?”

“The Dyad, of course,” Luke said, almost snidely. As if any idiot would know this.

“What exactly is that? All I know is that it’s rare and powerful.”

“I’ve consulted with the others about it, but it’s information that I really shouldn’t give you, if you’re going back.”

Ben’s heart was pounding in his chest, imagining Rey’s smile if he were to - but… “Did I disappear?”

Luke nodded.

“Fuck,” Ben groaned, heart crashing back into the pit of his stomach. “Then what is there to resurrect?! You can’t make something from nothing!”

His uncle shot him a patient smile. “Are you really going to argue  _ physics? _ In  _ this _ galaxy? Breaking those laws is practically the main thing the Force does. Hell, even x-wings do it.”

And then suddenly his heart was leaping for joy again. “How?!” he demanded eagerly. 

“You’ve been so busy feeling sorry for yourself, you haven’t noticed, have you?” Luke gestured to a strange and vaguely glowing beam, like a scarlet laser through fog, extending out into the nothingness.

“Follow it,” Luke said. 

“And that will - ?” he asked breathlessly.

Luke gave a sagely nod. “The power of The Dyad brought Palpatine back from the brink of death, and he wasn’t even directly connected to it. Of course, it’s far more powerful for you. With a common Force bond, the death of one often causes the death of the other. But for a Dyad - it's the opposite. As long as one of you lives, the other will always have a path back.”

Ben took a step toward the beam, but halted, looking back at his uncle.

“Why? Why would you help  _ me _ ? I practically killed you.”

There was that smug smile again, now strangely less punchable. “My entire adult life, people have been calling me a hero. It’s about time I lived up to that.” He paused. “And your mother will kick my ass if I don’t.”

* * *

Rey walked into one of the Skywalker homestead’s entrances, one of the slightly less buried ones. Even so, there was a thick layer of sand obscuring the floor. That didn’t matter though. She was only going to be here for a night.

“Guard the ship,” she called out to her droid companion. She set a tarp over the sand, and laid out her bed roll, trying desperately not to think.

Not thinking was how she had lived, the last several days. Parties. Meetings. Endlessly repetitive questions about where she would found the new Jedi Academy. People in expensive clothes consulting her about the new government, as if she knew a damn thing about galactic politics. And, somewhat less unpleasantly, listening to the thrilling narratives of what everyone had been up to, while she… While she…

She saved the galaxy. 

That was worth any sacrifice, wasn’t it.

Wasn’t it?

“Ben,” she whispered. She hadn’t allowed herself to really think about him. How could she? His loss was like a gaping wound just beyond a tight tourniquet. Something that had to be utterly cut off, lest she bleed to death. 

But now - now that she’d laid the tragic legacy to rest, and taken her new name, the thoughts just wouldn’t go away.

She hadn’t seen him. She was sure, SURE that he would be there, that she would see his smiling face peering across the desert at her, at peace along with his family. But not even that. 

She reached into her pack, pulling out a black bundle. She had no idea why she’d been carrying it around with her. She hadn’t taken it out until now.

The tunic and trousers were wrinkled. Without so much as a flutter of shame, she lifted the bundle to her nose, burying her face in the cloth. A smell was like a ghost, in a way.

But that wasn’t there either. They smelled like dust and ozone. Like the planet he’d clawed his way out of to reach her. Like the planet he’d died on.

It came on her all at once. She all but literally howled, body convulsing in spasms of sobs, clutching the bundle to her chest. To her heart.

* * *

She woke with her eyes practically plastered shut with dried tears. Sitting up, she rubbed the misery from her face, recalling that she’d fallen asleep, with her face buried in Ben’s clothes. But she must have rolled over at some point in the night, because she didn’t see them. Rey felt an odd wave of panic. Had they been stolen?! Her only memento of her lost bondmate?! She’d been told to watch out for the Jawas, but this?!

Rey scrambled to her feet, half-ready to toss some very un-Jedi-like Force lightening at some little, hooded thieves. She leapt out the door, scanning the pink-painted horizon for only a split second.

Before she saw…

He was there. No Force ghost. Real. So real. So vivid. The suns were rising behind him, both posed in perfect sync, in a halo around his dark curls. And he was smiling at her.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

She’d gone crazy. The stress and grief. But even so, there was no hesitation, hallucination or not. She ran to him. If this was what psychosis looked like, then she’d take it over sanity any day.

His arms opened for her, and she hit his chest almost hard enough to knock him down. He felt so real as he embraced her, swinging her around in a triumphant twirl. 

Rey was flat-out ugly crying with joy, an unstoppable torrent of snot and tears. And he let her cry, holding her against his chest, stroking her hair softly. So real. So so so real.

Eventually she leaned away, wanting to look at him. He must have seen the snot all over her face. Ben lifted up a hand and lightly wiped it off, leaving a nasty snail-trail of mucus on his sleeve.

That was what made her realize. No idyllic dream or vivid fantasy would be so gross and embarrassing. 

“Are you -” she was afraid to ask, knowing what the answer was likely to be. But she had to. “Are you _really_ here?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How?!” she said in an incredulous sob.

“Who cares?!” he sighed, pulling her into an even tighter embrace, both of their chests bouncing in uncontainable laughter. The sort of laughter that had nothing to do with amusement. The sort of laughter that comes from happiness too strong to be expressed with a mere smile. 

Without another word, he scooped her up into his arms. Their lips met in a joyful kiss, as he carried her across the threshold of the homestead.

The kiss didn’t stop, even as he dropped to his knees, and her ass met the bedroll. Her fingers were wound tightly in his black curls to prevent any separation. So silky, and springy, his hair. Of course he would come back from the dead, and have completely perfect hair.

The kiss was changing, transforming into something that expressed more than joy. Soft sighs became impatient pants. His generous lips parted, closing around her mouth. She took the opportunity, snatching his lower lip between hers, sweeping her tongue across the warm, smooth skin. He eagerly accepted her invitation, letting out a soft groan. There was a strange, almost electric jolt, the moment their tongues touched. Like the first time they touched hands, only with pounding lust in place of misleading hallucinations.

He was hunched over her now, and she felt herself lying back against the blanket. She took that moment to reflect, and only the merest, most instinctual consideration told her where this was going. It didn't feel _rushed._ True, only 48 hours ago she had still been telling herself that she hated him, but now.... If anything, it felt like they'd waited far too long. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt, and she pulled up over his head, tossing the formerly cherished garment carelessly onto the sand. 

That seemed to clue him into her same realization. He leaned back, searching her face for some sort of confirmation of her intentions. She gave only the slightest nod, and his mouth spread in the most enchanting smile she’d ever seen, lips parted almost in awe, as if she was giving him the only gift he’d ever wanted, and would never, ever deserve. That was probably true. He probably didn’t deserve this. But this wasn’t about what he deserved.

She grabbed onto his waist, pulling him down until he was laying flush on top of her with his full weight. She liked that heaviness, how it pressed them so close together. She expressed her approval by pulling off her tunic and band. The heat of his chest against her breasts must have been the best thing she’d ever felt in her life. Or at least she thought so, until her legs seemed to part of their own accord, ankles wrapped tight around him in an insistent embrace, his rigid heat pressing hungrily against her center. He let out strangely familiar, quavering sigh. The same sound he’d made the first time she bested him, in their battle of minds. 

“I want this,” she sighed. “Soo badly.”

“You can’t  _ possibly  _ want it more than I do,” he replied in a pant. His hand was down there. She felt a flutter of excitement. realizing that he was removing his trousers.

He pulled off her pants slowly, cherishingly, as if unwrapping the most precious gift in the world. What happened next was a little abrupt. His face darted forward, and he buried his face in the down of her sex, sudden and vehement, as if diving away from an explosion, and into safety. He nuzzled against her, and she felt a slick sweep of tongue. She let out something between a shriek and a gasp, and for a minute or two, her mind went completely blank. Not a single thought of what was likely to come next, or anything but mindless bliss.

He drew his arm across his mouth in an expansive, almost satisfied gesture, as if he’d just gulped down a liter of water, after crossing a desert. But satisfied was not the look on his face. No, that was the complete opposite of satisfied. Greedy. Ravenous. Her chest tightened with something between fear and excitement. She couldn’t help thinking that there was something of Kylo Ren in that look. A dark, intense glitter in his eyes, that seemed to say that he would hunt across the galaxy for the rest of his days, to get to her, destroying anything that got in his way.

Good thing there was literally nothing between them.

Even with that dangerous look in his eyes, his voice was impossibly tender when he spoke. “Take my hand, _ ”  _ he whispered, a demand and a helpless plea.

His hands were on either side of her shoulders. She slid her palm under them, her fingers slipping into his grasp, as he leaned forward, firm, silken warmth pushing into the sacred space within her, and they began their fervid dance of victory, over hate, death and a zeitgeist of crappy endings. 

Time immediately lost all meaning. Maybe it was seconds. Maybe it was days. Fingers still tightly laced together, straining to grasp ever tighter, as desperate as if one or the other was hanging perilously over the side of a cliff, with rolling hips as the ebb and flow of the water beneath. Each breath became a feverish pant, tempo ever increasing, building, pounding to a pulsing crescendo of rapture. 

Hovering over her, he pulled her up into an embrace against his chest, panting his satisfaction into her loose hair. She smiled as she nuzzled against his shoulder, and spoke and a sweet whisper. “The two that are one.”

“The two that are one,” he agreed. She could feel his smile against her temple. But then, she felt his face contort into a frown.

“What is it?” She asked, worried. Could he still be hurt from the battle? Was this all a dream after all?   


One of his arms released her, his arm reaching past his ass, and between his thighs. His hand moved in a flicking motion.

“Sand.”

* * *

The End

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> He must finish what grandfather started. Whining about sand to a woman who's too good for him. 
> 
> But seriously though. Physics and biology mean absolutely jack shit in the Star Wars galaxy. There isn't a shred of canon that directly prohibits him from coming back.
> 
> And please review!


End file.
